Mrs. Cuttlebrink was efficiently pulling and dispersing books to the lawyers. Annie wondered if there had been a rash of cases, deaths, or law changes in the nonmagical world that brought so many magical lawyers here this morning. She wasn’t surprised by Mrs. Cuttlebrink’s knowledge of books as she returned from the stacks with several more.
Annie sighed as she waited for Mrs. Cuttlebrink and felt some relief when the librarian finally tore herself from the lawyers to join Annie at the desk.
“Hi, Annie dear. I see you’ll be busy.” She offered a smile as she began to check out each book, forgoing the five-book limit.
Mrs. Cuttlebrink shrunk the pile and pushed the miniature versions to Annie. As Annie grabbed the pile, Mrs. Cuttlebrink reached for her hand. “You always have a choice. Regardless of where the clues lead.” She pointed to the door.
“You don’t think I should go?”
“I think the magic is dangerous. I don’t think you should.” Mrs. Cuttlebrink smiled and walked away, returning to the lawyers.
*
Annie read the comprehensive book on time portals, spending an inordinate amount of time focusing on their creation and the magic that made up the portal.
“Girl. I’ve been hearing things. What the hell is going on?” Milo grumbled, entering her cubicle. She glanced up and lay the book upside down, open to her page.
Milo Rawley had been a wizard guard for thirty years, spending his last fifteen as the department manager. Annie wouldn’t say he was great or lousy, he was just Milo, and she simply accepted him for all the good he’d done and all of his faults. In the last few months, he had been sickly, making him gruffer and more agitated than normal. While he didn’t share the cause of his health issues, everyone believed his imminent retirement was a good thing.
Annie, in no mood to be jovial, matched her mood to his own cantankerousness, “Seeing as I’ll be more powerful than all of you combined when this is over, I think you can start calling me ‘Annie’,” she said.
He glanced at her, a momentary look of shock on his face.
“Fine. You care to share… Annie?”
“See. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He grumbled, but Annie jumped straight into replaying the events of the last few days, pushing Jason’s case file to him. She suspected it was Ryan who had informed Milo, Annie wasn’t sure how that made her feel.
While he shuffled through the pictures of her mother and perused her father’s notes, she pulled out the Fraternitatem grimoire and opened it to the passage regarding her mother.
“Ryan told me,” Milo said as he slid back the folder.
“I figured.” She passed him the grimoire. He glanced at the cover and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Mortimer gave me that,” she said.
He read the passage she marked. When he finished, he said, “We had no idea it wasn’t her in the coffin. They did a thorough job of concealing her.”
“I know,” Annie murmured. “I’m gonna send Lial to find the portal the Viking came through.”
“Okay.” He closed the grimoire, but if he wanted to leave, he made no attempt to stand. He stared at her. “Girl… Annie,”
“Milo,” Annie said. She smiled nervously.
“The consensus is that you are this Anaise and must travel to the past. I promise you, we’ll find a more appropriate and safe method to resolve this,” Milo said. He pulled himself from the chair, though not without grunting and swearing. Annie smiled. She knew this was Milo’s way of saying he cared.
*
“Hey, got a sec?” Annie asked Lial as scried for the Viking using his leather belt. Lial smiled and offered her a seat.
“Yeah. I’m not finding the Viking anyway. How can I help?” he asked. Annie glanced at the map.
“No hits at all, I see,” Annie said as she sat.
“Based on the fact he appeared immune to magic and didn’t use it, I’m guessing whatever is protecting him is also cloaking him.” He pushed the map aside. “So what can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m currently researching portals. They’re simple enough if you’re opening a door to another plane of existence. What I’ve found on opening a portal to the past is general. I can go back, but not to a specific time and place. So,” Annie pulled out the talisman. “I’m not sure if this has something to do with the portal. I know it’s used to conjure a magical being, but maybe the magic inside could be used to track the portal. Specifically, for you to find the portal?” She raised her eyebrows.
Lial chuckled, summoned his crystal and ran it over the talisman, collecting the magic. “Yeah. I’ll track it for you. I heard there’s a thick patch of trees near that house. I would figure that would be a great place to open one,” he suggested.
“That sounds like a plan. Thanks,” Annie said.
“No prob. Give me an hour and I’ll let you know what I find.”
*
Lial strolled up the sidewalk to the abandoned house. The broken glass that covered the bushes and the porch had been cleaned and the broken window boarded up. The VAU had repaired the door hinges and hung the door, locking it when they left. Lial held his wrist six inches from the door, turned, and heard the lock pop open.
With a crystal in one hand and a flashlight in the other, Lial entered the house and took several passes across the floor. He moved the crystal in front of him, above him, and to each side, searching for any residual magical energy. He reviewed his crystal as it lit up, noting all of the spells, jinxes, hexes, and other magical energy for further examination. Lial followed the magic to the center of the front room, where he picked up a whiff of mullein just above the scorch mark in the carpet. His crystal glowed with a black-and-purple light.
Black magic!
Finishing with the opposite side of the room, Lial climbed the stairs, finding additional wayward jinxes as he reached the top of the stairs. To the right, he came to the closed door and jiggled the locked handle.
Odd.
Again, he popped the lock and entered the dark room. His eyes widened in surprise.
Someone is living here?
The room was small and neat, clean, and painted a soft yellow. The bed was made with a patchwork quilt. Pillows rested against the wall, their eyelet trim crisp, white, and clean. A small chair sat in the corner and a dresser was placed against the wall by the door. The marble top held a water basin and pitcher. He stuck his hand inside; it was still wet.
He summoned his crystal and roamed the small room, around the bed, across the bright yellow rug at his feet, anticipating the crystal would light up.
No magic.
He opened the dresser. The drawers were filled with women’s clothing: light summer sweaters, slacks, a jewelry box. Lial snapped a few pictures on his phone, documenting the clothing, the room, and the wet basin, forwarding them to Annie.
Someone is staying here. Basin is still wet, he typed.
With one last scan of the room, he exited and locked the door.
The magic led Lial to the front bedroom, finding the kill spell Annie had used on the demon and the jinxes she had cast on the creature to get him leave and get away from her. He traversed the room, back and forth across the wallboard, through the thick dust, across the damp carpet, capturing all spells, jinxes, and hexes. His crystal lit up white, gray, purple, and white again as it processed the magic.
Wind pounded the old building; it creaked and groaned with an impending storm. When he reached the window, Lial glanced at the gray sky. He took a quick look at his crystal, which was now dull and matching the shade of sky. Believing there was no more magical trace to be found, he exited the house and headed into the trees.
At the start of the narrow trail, Lial immediately found the tell-tale signs of a wayward spell: broken, singed branches. He snapped a picture.
Footprints crossed the trail in all directions. They were unlike anything he’d found that day—smooth at the center and lacking a crisp edge or patterned sole.
No
t modern.
He snapped more pictures and followed the footsteps that led deeper into the trees.
His phone rang loudly from his back pocket. He glanced at the screen. “Hey, Annie,” he said.
“Hey, Lial. I never tried that room,” she admitted.
“You were busy with the demon.” He chuckled. “By the way, that house is loaded with magic. From what I can tell most of it is about as old as your kill spell. There were hints of older magic around the mullein, but I based that on the strength of the light. I’ll go through all of the magic when I get back. If there’s a conjuring spell, it’s in my crystal.” He took cautious steps down the path. He noted his crystal was glowing with good magic.
“I guess I won’t keep you any longer. Let me know what you find.” She was short and tense with a quick goodbye before hanging up.
The narrow, overgrown trail was seldom used by humans and opened to a small clearing. Lial estimated it was no larger than thirty feet across and was surrounded by evergreens and tightly packed trees. At the center, he found a cold campfire, charred rocks, and a cooking rack made from sticks.
From behind Lial, footsteps shuffled and the leaves rustled.
Lial turned toward the sound and peered inside the thick branches as something ran through the trees.
Portal first.
After several passes through the clearing, the crystal finally glowed a grotesque grayish green, and then it was gone.
“Huh?”
The color was one he was unfamiliar with, ugly and sickly. He moved the crystal back across the location. The magic was such a tiny spot; it took him several minutes to find the energy again.
Portals to the Black Market had consisted of magic that created a vertical entrance roughly two feet wide and six feet tall. The portal buzzed, hummed, and let off an icy, cold chill. When a crystal was used to find the magic, it would glow a purplish hue. Lial stuck out his hand, but he felt none of those things.
“It can’t be that small,” he said. Rather than assuming, he raised the crystal upward. A smile crept across his face as the magic trace grew larger.
*
Annie was deep in a book about portals, though she still could find no mention of returning to the past, when Bucky Hart knocked on her cubicle wall.
“Hi, Bucky.”
He sat without invitation. His collared shirt and clean jeans surprised Annie; he normally wore ripped jeans, sneakers, and T-shirts. She refrained from raising her eyebrows in confusion.
When he settled in, he pulled out a folder and slid it to Annie.
Inside, she found the Donaldson family tree. She perused the first, second, and third pages, learning the tree went as far back as 795 CE. She traced the descendants finally finding another Gila Donaldson around 870 CE.
“So the coven came together around 795?” Annie asked.
“Think of Viking history. They raided England around 793. From what I could find, and it should be in the folder, is that the magicals really were left alone. They lived in the forests surrounded by magic. Something changed that. They seemed to form a more permanent society around 795, probably to protect against the Viking raids,” Bucky said as Annie perused the notes.
“Okay. The demon in Tartarus is a little weirder. Its magical trace is from the eighth century, but the demon itself is from the late ninth century.” Annie leaned back in her desk chair.
“So, the demons are reproducing?” Bucky asked.
“That’s what we think,” Annie said.
“Is there anything else you’d like me to do with the family tree or Gila Donaldson? I can work backwards and trace the coven, see if there’s coven money and where they’re hiding it, search for the other descendants in the area. Tell me where you’d like me to go with this.”
“Nowhere in particular. Just run a non-active search and don’t waste any time with it, but let me know if something pops up?”
“Just keep an eye out. No problem. I copied the buying agreement for the house. There’s not much here.”
“Well, if anything appears, let me know. Thanks Bucky,” she said. He was looking at her closely. “What?” she asked.
“I want to take a different approach to finding your mom, but I wanted to talk to you about it first,” Bucky said.
“Okay. What are you thinking?”
Bucky pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here’s the deal, I’ve searched on Emily Pearce and Emily Worthington. I searched the standard: diplomas, credit cards, mortgages, bank accounts.”
Annie nodded. “What’s the plan?” she asked hesitantly.
“I’m going to make some assumptions. First, she’s living in the Middle East like Arden Blakely was. Second assumption: Arden Blakely used her real name, so I’m going to assume that Emily is using her first name and a different last name, possibly by marriage, possibly just to make it harder to find her. I want to add to the search Emily Potash for your grandmother’s maiden name and Emily George for your grandfather’s name. I’d like to expand the search throughout the Middle East, and frankly, worldwide. We hadn’t discussed how far you wanted me to take this, but I think it’s important.”
Annie folded her hands together. “Keep going. If I get these powers, I’d like to know where she is before she can surprise me.” She sighed and offered a wan smile. She was trying to remain polite even though the more she learned about time travel, the less happy she was.
“I’m going to pull a list of women, first name Emily, who showed up in the Middle East after she died here. I’ll continue to search with Pearce, Worthington, George, and Potash.”
Annie sat up and leaned forward. “You’re amazing.”
Bucky blushed. “With your permission then, I’ll get started and let you know. Always a pleasure, Annie Pearce.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and glanced at the screen to see a message from Lial.
I found the portal!
*
When Lial moved his arm up, he found the magical trace, but it would soon disappear again as if there were gaps in the portal energy.
Huh.
He brought his arm back down, found the beginning of the magical energy, and moved the crystal to the right and left, up and down, finding that the energy was not a large, oval patch of magic. Rather, it wound upwards in a tightly formed spiral. When he couldn’t reach any higher, he glanced down the path. After verifying that he was alone in the woods, he levitated upwards, slowly and methodically tracing the spiral that widened with each pass. It ended with a flat, oval energy pool he estimated to be about one-foot wide and two feet long. Lial glanced down. He was hanging ten feet above the ground.
Slowly, he let himself down, following the spiral of the portal until he reached the ground. After finishing a text to Annie, Lial pocketed his crystal and was knocked face first into the earth.
Chapter 12
By noon, the sun was hidden under a thick layer of clouds. The warm, humid air already smelled like wet earth after a storm. Another squall was close. Annie glanced at the gray sky as a clap of thunder rattled in the distance.
You’re safe in the thunder.
It was an odd thing for Sturtagaard to say, Annie thought as she teleported from the courtyard with Spencer and landed in the clearing beside the house.
Annie scanned the clearing and saw Lial lying in the dirt. “Lial. Hey, Lial,” Annie called out as she rushed beside him.
“I’m okay,” he said and turned his head. “Someone knocked me out. Wanna guess who?”
Annie helped him sit.
Inside the trees, something or someone moved. Annie pointed toward the other side of the clearing. “The Viking?” she asked.
Spencer watched the trees. “I can’t see anything now. We need to get Lial back.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Check out the portal. It’s fascinating.” Lial stumbled when he stood.
“You okay?” Annie asked.
Lial grimaced. “Just go look. I sent you the coordinates.”<
br />
Annie stood at the spot. “Here?” She held the crystal and found the pin prick of magic. “It’s small.” She glanced at Lial.
Lial grabbed her hand and moved it up and around, following the spiral. The crystal lit up a grayish green. When she couldn’t reach any higher, Lial said, “Start levitating.” She obliged and followed the magic until she was hanging ten feet in the air.
“This is… wow!” she said.
“I’ve never seen a spell that color before. And the portal…” Lial said.
She levitated down. Again, there was activity in the trees.
“He must be waiting for us to leave,” Lial said.
Annie scanned the clearing, noting the cold fire pit at the center. “He must have stayed here and not in the house.” She pointed to the fire pit and walked over. All that remained of his fire was cold charcoal and burnt twigs.
“If he stayed here, where are the rest of his supplies?” Spencer asked.
They broke apart, walking the perimeter of the clearing, searching behind small trees and bushes.
Spencer walked to a small cluster of bushes and knelt at the base.
“Find something?” Annie asked.
Spencer dug at the foliage, releasing a roughly sewn sack. “I’d say he’s not magical. He had to hide this.” He held up the sack for Annie.
“If he could, he’d have shrunk it,” Lial said. Annie dug through the items, pulling out a half-eaten loaf of bread. The misshapen loaf was rough and dry. She took a sniff and grimaced. She next pulled out a second, smaller sack and opened it. The stench was overpowering.
“What is that?” Spencer held his hand over his nose.
“Dried fish?” Annie showed what looked like jerky of some kind.
While she looked for additional items in the bag, Spencer bent low and looked inside the bushes. “Missed something,” he said as he pulled out several rolls of animal skin.
“Animal skins and a sack with food. A fire pit over there, so he probably hunted and cooked his food. So they bring him here to come and get me, and then leave him to his own devices in a world he doesn’t know or understand?” Annie dropped the bread back in the sack and continued rummaging.
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